


The World is Gray Without You

by funkysquirrels



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, M/M, True Love, Will Knows, alternate universe soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:06:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkysquirrels/pseuds/funkysquirrels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A universe where there are soulmates. There are soulmates for everyone who wishes to have a sexual and or romantic relationship. There are soul-friendships for those who do not wish for a sexual and or romantic relationship, too. Once one meets their soul mate(s), they have a new ability; they can see color. The world is grey for everyone until they meet the one(s). </p><p>Will falls into the mindset of the Ripper and comes out into a colorful world. When he meets Hannibal, color becomes clearer and Will then knows. Hannibal is a serial killer and his true love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU: People see color once they meet their true love. When their true love dies, color vanishes leaving them once again, in a gray world.

Grabbing the light grey tape, Will pulls it up and over his head as he enters the crime scene. He had left in a hurry, throwing on a black button-up shirt and tugging up old grey jeans from the laundry basket. He now notices he looks like a car wreck with mismatched buttons, scruff, and jeans covered with oil. If Bev, Ze, and Becker care, they don’t show it as they passionately take pictures of the gruesome scene. An Indian man, who moved to Virginia 20 years ago, hangs limply over a well. His neck is tied to where the bucket’s rope hangs and his feet and organs are at the bottom of the well in a bucket. Everyone thinks it is the Ripper's first victim since years back when Miriam Lass was lost. 

In the past, Will had obsessively poured over this serial killer’s profile from his seat behind the computer before Jack called him up to be hired. Now, being there physically makes Will’s dark grey blood run frenzied in his veins. With a sweep of his hand, Jack orders to clear the area making everyone scurry away. He takes a look into the open eyes of the dead body before closing his eyes to fall into the Ripper’s mindset.

The Ripper is following the 50 year old man’s black Toyota, knowing they will deflate within seconds for the slashes he had made in them will cause air to leak during the man’s ride home. The Ripper was upset at the man and saw him as an eyesore. The Ripper and the victim have seen each other repeatedly may it be at a store or a museum. Once the Ripper had enough, he went to attack him.

The victim, Mr. Bakshi, pulls over as he feels his car’s tires go out. When he gets out and inspects it, the Ripper arrives pretending to help. As he casually walks up to Bakshi he takes out a wrench and knocks him unconscious in a clean sweep. After neatly wrapping the body up in a tarp, he lugs it to the nearby well and begins his fun.

After hanging the man up with a rope under his armpits on the well’s post, the Ripper pulls out a scalpel and he makes a dorsal incision. The incision is similar to how taxidermists would de-skin a deer or larger animal. The ripper pulls Bakshi’s skin off his lower stomach and legs with a strong grip and lower tug. He cuts off the leftover skin and tucks it away for safe keeping. Digging into the fatty flesh of the stomach, the ripper breaks the light membrane that keeps all organs together before letting them drop into the well. They hit the bucket down below with a _plop_. The victim passed out a while ago, making the procedure less fun. Soon Bakshi’s feet are in the pit along with his organs and the Ripper is packing up, but before the Ripper leaves, he leaves a carnation in Bakshi’s mouth as a greeting gift to the police.  

Will opens his eyes, his heart pattering like his dogs’ paws in the morning as they hear him get out of bed. Looking around, he sees things he cannot describe. Looking up, he sees the sun in a different hue than an overly bright white. And when he looks down to hold his head in his hands, the grass isn’t a light grey but something dark and lush. If Will had to describe the grass, he’d say it reminded him of his dad’s lullaby voice back when he was a kid. Finally peeling his eyes away from the ground, he looks at the victim and Bakshi’s skin isn’t a dark grey anymore but a color like the ground between the blades of grass. Once Will focuses on the clotted blood where the man’s feet used to be, he notices the blood isn’t black anymore, but a bright vivid color of pain.

Will’s breathing increases, his mind goes foggy. The only reasoning he can think of is that he’s having a stroke and now can see color. The color that humans cannot see until they meet their soul mate, yet that cannot be true since he hasn’t met anyone new today.

Jack’s rough hand grabs Will’s shoulder trying to ground him. “Will, what’s wrong?” He asks with loud concern.

“I’m… not feeling well.” The man who could see color whispers back, his throat full of rocks and his body heavy like lead. “I… I need to leave.”

“Alright, but is it him? Is it the Ripper?” Jack questions as he watches Will turn around to go back to his car.

“I’m afraid that it is, Jack.”

_____________________

The car door opens and shuts once Will arrives in the driveway of Wolf Trap. With shaking hands, he holds his house key in the right and his coat and briefcase in the other. After a moment of fumbling, the house door swings open to reveal a rush of dogs. Will wades through them and takes in their new physical characteristics. He notices with a smile that: Winston is the color of a setting sun, his boxer is the color of wet mud, and his small terrier is still white, but with oak colored spots.

His hands stop shaking as the dogs greet him in his return. After throwing his things on a chair, Will goes over to his packed bookcase and takes out a book every person owns. The book on colors. Every child receives the book around the time they turn 10 and can read. Will only saw varying degrees of grey when he got the book from his elementary teacher. His dad didn’t believe or care about soul mates and thus never got him the book. Yet now looking at it he can see the lush dark color of green, the painful color of red, and the bright color of yellow. Flipping to the end of the small booklet where colors are shown with hues and shades, Will finds the color of the shirt he chose to wear today, a pale red.

After making himself a cup of tomato soup, the man who found out he had blue eyes sits outside watching his dogs frolic in the dying light. The cool spring breeze tickles against his face and the smell of growing plants wafts in the air. His hands feel the warmth of the rosey red soup in his black mug. Once Will takes a sip of the canned soup, the sharp taste of sour tomato and milk hits his tongue. He patiently waits for himself to come to terms to what happened at work today: He saw color after getting out of the mindset of the Ripper. Humans only see color once they meet their true love. Will met no one new today, but the Ripper. The Ripper is his soul mate.

Will takes a deep breath, and tries not to think about it.

 


	2. They Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two meet and Will is shocked at what happens.

“Will, this is Doctor Hannibal Lecter, he is a therapist and is helping us with the Ripper case starting today.” Jack says to Will as he walks into the larger man’s office.

Looking at the therapist, Will sees a pair of black spotless shoes, a parsley three piece suit, a winsor tied dark blue tie, a rounded chin, thin protruding lips and lastly a pointed nose. Will doesn’t look at the man’s face for more than a second before focusing his eyes on the man’s tie once again. Navy blue was the color? He thinks so. He’s tried to look up as many colors as he could, but ended up closing his laptop once he got to mermaid blue and chestnut yellow.

The man clears his throat, “Mr. Graham, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” A hand with a neat manicure appears in Will’s vision asking for a handshake. Will replies with a nod towards the doctor and sits down in the chair Dr. Lecter isn’t in.

“Why am I here, Jack?” Will finally says after Jack imites an irritated sound at Will’s rudeness.

“Because I was told by a certain doctor that you need help, especially after what happened yesterday.” Explains Jack with a look of disapproval towards the autistic man.

“I fell too deep, Jack. I’m fine now.” Will says with a lie crossly. He doesn’t want to tell Jack he can see color. Not only because his soul mate is the Ripper, but also because color-seeing people group themselves together usually believing they are higher than those who haven’t found the one or just wish not to. Will does not want to be invited into those kinds of factions.

“Well, Dr. Lecter is here, and he will help you, Will.” The man states with a frown, making no further comments necessary. When Jack says go, you go. “Your first meeting with him is tomorrow. Make sure to be there.”

Biting back a comment, Will agrees, stands up, begins to march out of the room hitting his leg against his new therapist’s. Magically, the color in the room becomes clearer and the lights brighter before causing an audible gasp to escape his lips from the shock. He gets out of the room frantically, runs for the elevator’s pale yellow button, and finds himself in a coffee shop a few miles away trying to not think about anything.

Humans can have more than one soul mate. It isn’t an impossible situation. Polyamorous relationships, while hard to maintain, are legal and accepted. Nonetheless, Will only pines for “the one” but not “the two” or “three.” In some ways, soul mates aren’t set from birth, but from how one develops as a character.

Mothers will boast about how their newborn is colorful in character, but their true self isn’t formed yet, and thus no child can ever see color between the ages of 1-8. Adults give kids the color books around their early teens because that’s when a child’s character is starting to stabilize and the clockworks of fate start to turn for that individual. Once a child has reached puberty, is when it is possible for them to meet their true love, if they so wish. Some kids show no interest in romantic and or sexual relationships for their whole life, and thus they will never have a soul mate. There are instances where soul friends are created and those kids are able to see color once they meet them. That does not occur in kids who seek romantic and or sexual relationships however.

People can be faced with the fact they may never find their true love. Those people end up with someone who will not grant them the ability of color, but still love them just as strongly. Out of a hundred people in a relationship, around seventy will be with their true love. And out of a hundred of people in a marriage that has lasted over ten years, around ninety of them will be with their true love.

Fate is unique. It chooses those that you will have the ability to meet in your life. Fate is not evil and will not pair someone up with a partner across the globe unless it is sure you will go to that place eventually. Fate will not leave you loveless either if your true love ends up dead. Fate will wind your clocks back, take your ability to see color, and try its best to find you a new partner. The chance that it will work is unfortunately low.  There are cases where people have suddenly stopped seeing color at work or on commute and end up killing themselves then and there because the grief is too strong. And there are cases where one person of an older couple wake up in bed and can’t see color. The shock luckily kills them nine out of ten times. Losing one’s first true love, can literally break the heart and cause heart failure. In polyamorous relationships, these risks are just as high however they still see color but to a lesser degree.

Will goes over these facts as he drinks his black coffee and smells the baking pies in the shop. With a hefty breath, he thinks of suicide. He doesn’t value his life for himself. He sees himself as a tool to use by people. However, now that he knows his new therapist is his soul mate and the Chesapeake Ripper, he thinks about it. He thinks about telling Jack, too. “Look, Jack, Dr. Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper. I know because I can see color now after going into the Ripper’s mind. It’s crazy, I know, but look, do you want to catch him or not?” It sounds stupid to him just thinking about it.

Taking off his glasses, the tired man rubs the bridge of his nose and feels powerless. His longing to have a person who understands him totally and love him unconditionally feels stronger than the justice he’s supposed to serve.

“Fuck it.” Will thinks, “Just fuck it. Let yourself be happy for once. People will die, you know they will die, but maybe, just maybe, you can be happy with the Dr. Lecter part of the deal and ignore the Chesapeake Ripper part.” And Will does.

~-*-*-*-~

The next night, he ignores the guilt that fills him as he puts on his nicest shirt, a dark magenta button up, and a set of black trousers. He ignores the dread that surges in his stomach and the anxiety that trembles in his body. Beads of sweat form on his neck and underarms as he parks next to the building Jack gave him As he is waiting in the waiting room, he paces and continues to doubt himself. When the door opens, Will’s breath hitches and his eyes shift to the man’s eyes, dark brown almost red, then to his tie, brown with a miniature yellow pattern.

“Mr. Graham, please come in.” Dr. Lecter greets, his lips curve into a dangerous smile.

The anxious man hurriedly enters and finds himself in a large room with a twisting staircase that leads to a second level where books lay. In the middle of the room is a desk, in front of the desk are two chairs and a lounge chair. Will chooses to stand. He looks around to the stag statue on one side of the room and then to the big windows that look out towards the dark streets.

“Will.” Will says to the doctor who closes the door and takes a seat at one of the chairs.

“Alright, Will. Why do you think you’re here today?” The well dressed therapist asks.

“Because Jack asked me to be here…” Will mutters wondering when the man will comment on the color he sees. He’s surprised that Dr. Lecter didn’t welcome him with more anger since they both know they’re soul mates, yet Will hadn’t confront him on it. If that happened to Will, he’d be rejected and angry.

“That and what else? I believe you had a panic attack at the last case you were at?” Hannibal queries, one eyebrow raised not letting off any confusion about Will’s lack of discussion about him seeing color.

“It was… nothing.” Will answers, finally finding himself sitting down in the chair opposite the doctor. “The mindset of the Ripper made me...confused.” He puts it plainly.

“It didn’t bother you?” Says the doctor with his low voice, one like the color of the ocean’s blue. Calming, rolling, and soothing.

“No…” Will lies as his hands become clammy as the subject of “are you the Ripper? Are you my one?” was almost not avoided.

“Tell me, Will, about the Ripper. I hear you’re great at analyzing. Please share with me the process.”

“Please, doctor, don’t psychoanalyze me. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed.” Will says as his nervousness broken by irritability. He sighs, “I can fall into anyone’s mind. I can tell what they’re feeling. It’s not a super ability, I’m just able to read body language and translate it into feelings I can feel.”

“You’re overly empathetic,” Dr. Lecter comments feeling eased that the man was finally coming out of his shell, “so you can feel how any killer feels and thinks.”

“Yes.”

“Does that bother you?” Dr. Lecter asks, shifting in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs distractingly.

“Sometimes…” Will mutters trying not to look at the doctor’s body too closely, “because, when I kill in their mindset…”

“It feels good.” The doctor concludes in his statement. Will jerks his head agreeing.

****

The rest of their session was full of pregnant pauses and many pushes from Dr. Lecter to get Will to talk. As their sessions continue over the course of a few months, the pauses stop occurring as often. As more Ripper victims fall into Jack’s hands, Will opens up to Dr. Lecter more than he had to anyone before. Perhaps it was because he was his true love, or perhaps because Will felt Dr. Lecter truly knew how he felt because he was the Ripper and wouldn’t judge for his more violent urges.

A month goes by of these sessions, not one of them talking about their color seeing ability. Dr. Lecter begins to hand him glasses of alcohol, always letting his touch last a bit longer than the time before. He also tells Will to start calling him Hannibal as Will confesses on dreaming about murdering. Will in turn begins to have nightly fantasies with his soul mate and wakes up in a warm sweat, his cock hard and his stomach full of birds. Not butterflies because the love between two monsters is never pretty. It all changes suddenly once everything starts melting.

****

It began with a scream from the chimney, and then the sound of a dying dog on the street. The police and Will were were trying to capture the man who strung cat guts into a man’s throat to try and serenade the Ripper. It got worse and worse until the blue eyed man started losing time. Now, Hannibal is reluctant to let the brilliant man cure his encephalitis. Perhaps his reluctance is because Hannibal worries Will would no longer be his soul mate once it was cured; he also doesn’t want the brilliant process of Will’s mind slowly leaving him to end. It was until Will arrived to Hannibal’s home in Baltimore at two in the morning one night when Hannibal knew this turned into a tightrope game.

 

“Will?” Hannibal asks in his silk night pyjamas, touching the sleeping man’s shoulder. The empath’s eyes are open, but he isn’t consciously there. He has no shoes on and is only wearing boxers and a cotton white shirt. Hannibal knows these are his sleeping garments, to his distress, since he’s been to Will’s house in the morning to bring the man breakfast before.

Tuttering at Will’s state, Hannibal guides him into his house, locking the door behind them. He notes Will’s car in his driveway and concludes he sleep drove himself here. Whether that was possible or not, he doesn’t know.

Leading the barefoot man upstairs to his guest bathroom, he gets the bath ready and tries to wake the man up.

“Will,” Hannibal says as he lightly shake Will’s body. With little reluctance, he raises his hand and strikes Will across the face jolting him awake. “Will, you are in Baltimore, it’s two forty-eight AM and your name is Will Graham.”

“My name is Will Graham and I’m in Baltimore…” Will repeats, dazed and confused. “Hannibal… why am I in your bathroom?”

“My dear Will, I believe you came here in your sleep.”

“I lost time?” The fear creeps up in Will’s voice.

“I’m afraid so. Now, I have a bath prepared for you. There will be a set of clothes outside for you to wear and I will be downstairs. Please, take your time.” Answers the therapist friend who takes his time rubbing the confused man, enjoying the surges of color that brighten and darken due to the contact.

After Hannibal leaves, Will undresses and finds himself enveloped in the steamy warmth of the water. His body shakes from fear of what he did unconsciously. Everytime he inhales, his breath hitches and tears form around his eyes. His mind is deteriorating, Hannibal and him still haven’t admitted their fate, and his true love is a serial killer. He wants to cry and also to not cry. He feels tired from the stress he puts himself under all the time and wishes for it to all be easier.

Trying to end the feeling of breaking, Will applies Hannibal’s lavender infused soap into his hair which calms him down. He washes himself thoroughly feeling a blush creep up his neck as he uses Hannibal’s soap to wash his cock and balls. He quickly rinses himself off in cold water to end his slight erection, dries himself off, and finds the promised set of clothes outside the bathroom.

****

Going downstairs, Will’s nose is met with the smell of hot chocolate. Hannibal notices him and gestures for him to take a seat at the luxurious island. Once Will sits, he’s hands are given a mug full of the rich dark chocolate with a dollop of cream on top.

“Do you do this for all your patients that acquire help at 3AM?” Will asks with a sad smile as he looks into his mug.

“No, only you, dear Will.” Hannibal replies as he cleans off the pot he used.

“Hannibal…” Will starts, feeling his hands become cold and clammy even though he’s holding a warm mug.   
“Yes?”

“I’ve seen color since I met you.” He blurts out, his heart ramming in his chest. He closes his eyes waiting for a reply.

“Yes, me too.” Hannibal says slowly, calculating what Will will say.

“Why didn’t you say anything when we first met?” Will asks his voice straining from the rocks in his throat.

“I was waiting to see what you’d do.” The therapist, friend, soul mate replies, his hands soon enclosing the other’s. “Some soul mates don’t workout, and I didn’t want to scare you off. Also, we were in a professional setting.”

Taking his hands out of Hannibal’s, Will rubs them against his face and chokes out, “Fuck, Hannibal. This isn’t how I wanted it to go.” He looks up the man’s eyes with his own puffy ones. “I’m losing my mind, my time, and my life.”

Hannibal decides at that moment it’s either time to comfort the distressed man, or to tell him to leave because he cannot remember the last time he felt responsible for another person’s actions. With an internal sigh, he goes to the other side of the island and takes Will into his arms.

“You’ll get better Will, this is just because you’re under so much stress. Let me call Jack for you later today and tell him you need a week off, alright?” He mutters into the curly brown hair of his soul mate.

“And what? The Ripper will start ripping?”

“Of course not, but there are other people who can work on it. You don’t need to do everything.” Hannibal replies. He lies since his plans to attack the lawyer is now postponed. There was no need to further stress the younger man. “You’ll stay with me. I’ll get someone to tend your dogs for you. You need rest.”

Tiredly, Will agrees with a nod and finally relaxes into the older man’s arms enjoying the feel of human contact. Hannibal’s musky smell allows Will’s mind to unravel and relax. Sleepiness overcomes him making him to yawn.

Hannibal leads Will upstairs into his master bedroom where the walls are royal blue and the sheets a golden yellow. When Hannibal wanted to decorate his home, but not look like a fool for picking off colors, he hired an interior decorator married to a wife and a husband. Now that he can see the color, he compliments her internally. Once Will is tucked into the golden sheets, Hannibal crawls in from the other side and holds Will in his arms to try and comfort him. He feels possessive over the man in his arms and knows that he would kill anyone for him. Even if Will asked Hannibal to kill him, he would. He’d make it hurt as much as Will wanted, and most likely will follow in lead for the world without Will is too bland and dark now compared to now.

******  
**


	3. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal learns Will knows about his secrets.

The morning sun shines in through the window casting a faint light on the two men in the honey colored bed. The faint light casts soft shadows on Will’s face making him seem younger than he is. His hair is matted from the night with Hannibal since he is not used to sharing a bed with another person. Hannibal looks at him for a while, taking in his features and sighing at how beautiful he looks. Finally making up his mind, Hannibal slides out of bed and goes into the bathroom. He finds the medication he prescribed when Will first got sick incase he ever wanted to cure him.

Acyclovir, an injectable medicine that Hannibal sucks with a needle to twelve milligrams per kilogram. The usual treatment for encephalitis gone this long would be two weeks, but by using a higher dosage and proper care, Hannibal is certain Will will be feeling better by the end of this week. Once back into his bedroom, he takes Will’s arm and finds a prominent vein in his hand, pricks the skin, and injects the drug. Once done, he kisses the pin drop of blood off his skin.

Will stirs and his eyes open slowly, his calm ocean ones meeting Hannibal’s fall maple leaf colored ones with love and adoration. Within seconds their limbs are wrapped together and Hannibal is on top of Will, his mouth moving against the others and his tongue slipping between Will’s lips. Will notices Hannibal’s mouth tastes like mint and assumes he had brushed his teeth already. He lets Hannibal rub against his body so his chest rubs against Will’s causing friction and sensitivity. Both their cocks start to harden from the stimulation making Will blush feveriously. His eyes close when Hannibal’s hand finds its way under his silk top and into his pants. With a loose grip, Hannibal teases Will until his pants are tented and Will’s breath comes in little pants.

When Will opens his eyes again, he looks at Hannibal’s tented pyjamas and takes ahold of them, pulling them down until his cock is free between his legs. With a tight grip from nervousness he might mess up, Will tugs and rubs the dick until precum causes the whole head to become slippery. From deep within his chest, Hannibal growls and looks into the oceanic eyes of Will and clamps his mouth against him again before taking both of their cocks in his hand and rubbing them together. The colors Will sees behind his eyes blind him until he only sees white. Hannibal’s nimble fingers cause Will to orgasm but not ejaculate twice before he feels the warm cum on his stomach and his aching balls.

Finding Hannibal’s eyes, Will looks into them and sees full blown pupils. The brown eyed man’s chest is pink and his breathing is deep. They kiss again for a while, Hannibal on top of Will. They lick and tease, but both of them are satisfied.

Later in the morning once both of them are downstairs and dressed, Hannibal cooks while Will watches. He turns on the oven and throws on an iron cast pan to heat up. Taking out the ingredients for a hearty egg-sausage scramble and crepes for breakfast, he finds Will's eyes on him, or more for the fact, on his arms. When Hannibal picks up the heavy cast iron to twirl the melting butter around, it seems as if Will might want to lather _him_ in butter and twirl him around. Hannibal is not totally opposed to the idea. Once the butter melts, he throws in the whipped eggs and chopped sausage. The sausage is pork for once, but the wrap is made out of Mr. Bakshi's skin. Skillfully, he slowly cooks the eggs to perfection. Not too wet, not too dry. The stainless steel pan for crepes also is ready to be used. Hannibal pours the batter onto the bot metal and spreads it out thinly. Soon the meal is ready and the plate of food is set before Will.

 

His soul mate hums approval as he takes a bite of the crepe. His face then sours afterwards. Will doesn't want to, but he finally brings up the conversation he wished to never have.

“Hannibal, for the period I am here for, can you please not kill anyone?”

Stunned, Hannibal looks at Will for a long time before breaking out into a hearty laugh. “Yes my dear, of course if it’s for you.”

“Thank you.” He says before inspecting the eggs and sausage. Hannibal is a meat lover, yet Will has never seen store bought meat come out of his bag. His stomach flips, and he stops eating. Hannibal looks at him amused.

With a swallow of nervousness, Will finally says, “Never mind,” before sitting again, swallowing his bile, and eating the dish. He faintly hears the echo of his own hum of approval from Hannibal as he does this.

Of course Will knew. Hannibal wouldn’t love him if that wasn’t the case.


	4. Years later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An extra chapter I kept promising for this summer yet have never gotten around to it. beta, not edited.

A year after meeting the man who gave him color, Will Graham stands flanked against Hannibal in a dark musty room. On a table lies a tied up woman, her luscious dark hair tangled and covering her glaring dark eyes. Hannibal had given Will a list of possible criminals for their hunt, Will painstakingly accepted it. After checking up on all six of the people Hannibal had chosen, Will chose Angelica Blake, a German-Italian immigrant charged with animal cruelty and race discrimination. Both times the fines were low and neither of the times had she learned her lesson. Now tied to the plastic table, her mouth duct taped, and her arms plastered to her side, she scowls at the two men above her. 

"How would you like to dispose of the woman?" Hannibal inquires to his lover intrigued of how red and rosy the skin of the white woman's face has grown over the time she's been tied down. He could take a knife and lightly tap it against her cheeks and blood would ooze out so easily and fast. 

"Knife." Will mutters before swallowing making his adam apple bob. The flushed cheeks of the woman's skin makes him sick to his stomach. The coloring reminds him of the pink stripe on the salmon trout he caught yesterday. The poor fish had leeches attached on its head and body. When Will took them off, the skin peeled off exposing the pink flesh beneath the scales while blood trickled out. Will had almost puked then. 

The younger man forages through Hannibal's bag and takes out a plastic apron and two surgical gloves, puts them both on, and then goes back into the bag to grab a butcher's knife. Hannibal hums in approval before stepping back to let the special agent do the rest. He crosses his hands together in front of him like he's admiring a street artist, or maybe looking at an art piece in a museum. The woman's muffled screams are heard when she sees the long knife glimmer in the low lights of the room. Rats scurry away from her squeaks and squeals of fear. 

 _Oink, oink,_  Will thinks as he jumps into the mindset of the Chesapeake Ripper. He scans the woman's body once more taking notice of her cheap knock off shoes which mimicked alligator skin, to her semi-expensive shirt made out of the thinnest material he could think of. _How do women wear those things?_ He thinks before tapping the knife on her sternum. The woman shrieks more but it just comes out as muffled yelps. 

Will brings the knife up over his head before bringing it down with all his might on to the woman's chest. He does not blink. Hannibal doesn't blink either. The colors in the room grow vibrant. The grey colors of the wall become more blue, the thin cloth of the woman's shirt glows a dark green, and her cheeks almost remind Will of fluorescent pink as she screams the very last time. It's like an orgasm for Will. The sudden bright colors giving him adrenaline, dopamine, and serotonin. His dick grows heavy in his pants suddenly as he gets hard. The dying lightbulb shines a stronger yellow than before. As he looks down at the knife protruding from the woman's chest, a dark oozing red seeps from the wound. The stormy eyed murderer faces his serial killer lover, both of them horny and hot. Hannibal restrains himself from touching Will in fear of leaving evidence. Will nods, understanding why Hannibal is holding back. 

Looking back at the dying body on the table, Hannibal's eyes are stuck on the crimson color trickling out of the woman's chest, the blood bubbling when her heart beats for the last few times. With a grunt, Will takes the knife out of her chest before folding it up in a towel for cleaning. He walks back next to Hannibal as they watch the blood dribble down the side of the plastic table onto the floor before beginning to clot. The lady's eyes, still glaring, turn glassy slowly as minutes go by. The two men don't want to look away, the color of the blood too mesmerizing for their unexperienced eyes. 

"We should get rid of the body," Hannibal eventually says as he looks away from the brilliant red show to retrieve a hatchet to cut the woman up into smaller bits. He puts on his own plastic suit, fitted just for him, before taking a leg and chopping it off at the knee. _Whunk._ The leg is severed but still attached by cartilage. Hannibal takes it and bends it backwards breaking the rest of the bone, tissue, and skin from the body. He puts the leg in a bag. Shaking his head clear, Will also begins to help taking care of the other side. Within two dozen minutes, everything's bagged except her torso and head. Hannibal will be making lamb stew tonight made with tenderloin. Will cannot wait. 

Leaving the decorative part up for Will, Hannibal makes his way back to the car with the limbs leaving the torso and head with his lover. Sweat drips from Will's face after he processes what he's done. He doesn't feel sick to his stomach anymore, no, he feels great. He feels great and that's what's making him feel so terrible. He just killed a woman--well she kind of deserved it--and feels fine. No regrets.

Taking a breath in, Will sighs. This is who he has become. The man who can get into criminal's minds is now a criminal himself. Freddie Lounds was right, he is fucked up. He shakes his head, _this is no time to wallow in your own identity crises Will,_ he tells himself. Now, if he was the Ripper, what would he do? He could tie her up by her neck and leave her hanging, push rose stalks into her empty sockets and call it a day. Or he could slice her head off, shove it into her stomach, and gift wrap everything. But, no, he's not the Ripper. He's Will Graham, and he was the one who chose the prey. With a smirk, he grabs his knife and begins carving. 

 

_____________________

(Two days later...)

"Jack, the Ripper kills in threes, this can't be a Ripper victim." Will interjects Jack. He rubs the bridge of his nose, faking a headache. He knew he'd be called into his own crime scene, but not as soon as now. 

"But, the victim has missing body parts, and has been surgically cut into. Just look at the body and do your thing," The older man orders before leaving Will in front of the door to a underground bomb dig out. Two kids came across the dig out and went inside only to be greeted with an unruly horrendous sight. If Will wasn't so anxious about being back at his own crime scene, he would of felt bad for the kids. 

Will enters the crime scene, yellow tags scattered everywhere, cameras flashing, techs scraping at the floor---unlikely to find anything leading to him or Hannibal. Finally, his eyes rest on his masterpiece. Angelica Blake hangs by a rope tied around her waist to the ceiling like a piñata. Her head is on the table they used to cut her up, and her mouth is marred while her body is beaten and bruised. This is his design. 

"Can you do your thing?" Brain asks from behind. Will nods in response as everyone exits the room before replaying everything in his head.

__________________

"The woman had a foul mouth, so the killer butchered her mouth, tearing her lips apart with knives and scissors as in to say, "Bad girl, eat some soap." The killer then took a long stick, or pole, and beat her body post mortem. The way the hits were made it's like she was being punished for something. Perhaps she hurt kids with a broom for punishment. This is the killer's way of getting back at her, or perhaps giving her a tablespoon of her own medicine." Will says before taking a swig of gritty coffee Beverly had handed him. Will and Jack were talking outside of the crime scene. Will rests his body against his car, Jack stands tall, her arms folded. 

Jack looks at him, his eyes shifting curious as always of how Will does his thing. With a pat on Will's back, he releases the man with a "Good job," before ordering his people to clean everything up and bring it back to the lab.

Will texts Hannibal he'll be at his home in 20. 

____

 

The door opens after the click of the keypad granting access to Will before he steps in Hannibal's home that he's slowly moving in to. He sees his raincoat on the coat rack from a week ago, and a few items like his personal travel coffee mug on the counter where Hannibal slowly cooks lunch. No doubt lamb again. They were discussing Will moving entirely in with Hannibal, but Will's first priority is still his dogs to Hannibal's dismay.

"How did the crime scene go?" The European man asks walking over to his soulmate. He plants a kiss on the other's forehead after pushing his unruly hair back. Will needs a haircut, Hannibal notes. 

"Fine. Jack was an ass like always."

"And how was it to see Miss Blake again?" 

"An experience," he leaves it at that as he takes a seat at the island, his hands drumming on the navy granite tabletop. "Her skin turned a bit green from bacteria, but otherwise she looked the same." 

"As expected, it isn't the most clean environment for a murder," joked the other. 

"Do you think they'll find any evidence?" 

"I doubt it, my love. Now eat up, the meat is getting cold." 

 

____

 

That night as the two of them laid in bed, Will snug down into the depths of Hannibal's luxurious covers over to his lover. He shuffles onto the other's legs, slips his hands into the other's trousers, and pulles them down before taking the other's dick into his mouth still in his briefs. 

Hannibal rolls his head back and holds the profiler's head playing with his hair. The younger man mouths the cloth dampening it as the dick inside hardens before tenting the material. With a sharp tug from the Ripper from Will's hair, the special agnet pulls the briefs down enough to have the head of the cock peak out before lapping at the underside. 

Grunts from Hannibal encourages Will's teasing before another sharp tug from the baseline of his neck pushes him into putting the whole dick into his mouth. The oceanic eyes meets Hannibal's crimson ones as his soulmate uses his mouth as a fuck toy. Moving Will's head violently up and down, Hannibal forces his cock to hit the back of the man's throat making Will almost gag. Will's mouth is soon flooded with salty bitter come before having it vacant of any intruding member. The younger man swallows, gasps for air at the same time, and licks his lips like a cat after a meal. 

Once Will catches his breath, he shyly smirks and gets on Hannibal, straddling him on his chest. He takes his own dick out of his pants enticing Hannibal him to bite it. With dark red eyes, Hannibal looked up before nipping at the other's dick causing a yelp from Will. Taking his hands, Hannibal holds Will's hips and moves them closer to his mouth until the other's dick's close enough to be licked and sucked on. After a long period of stopping and going, Will finally comes and falls on to his soulmate making the gold and blue colors of the master's bed room swirl in his mind. 

Both killers sleep well that night, bright visions of red, stags, and knives being plunged into chests filling their dreams. 


End file.
